


An Evening with Her Thoughts

by forlornwind



Series: Festival of Rarepairs [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: A glimpse at Tsunade's childhood, Background hints of HashiMada, Drabble set after the Fourth Shinobi World War, F/M, Gen, Tsunade's PoV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9044465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forlornwind/pseuds/forlornwind
Summary: Tsunade coming to realise that she does care about Madara.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Important: Please read [here](http://forlornwind.tumblr.com/muse) if you wish to understand post-war Madara context.

Madara is at her office as usual. On the dot. 9am, and there was two familiar and heavy knocks that had a muffled sound to them because of his gloves. He’s dressed battle-ready. Their meetings don’t usually last more than twenty minutes… but today, it over shots by two. Yes, he counts it as two minutes too much.

       “Madara, you can say no if you don’t want this mission.”

He wonders why Tsunade asks. She knows he will not reject anything. Him at her office was merely ritual. Waking early, meditating, fishing, breakfast, then taking a long walk to the gates of Konoha. This was his morning ritual and he is already a minute late to that appointment at the hospital.

       “You are the Hokage. Surely there is enough on your plate.  
        Don’t wonder about other things.”

Her expression steels then, sorely unaccustomed to have her kindness rejected in this way. He is not Orochimaru, she reminds herself. He is not her friend.

Madara nods once and leaves.

And she let him.

.

.

.

She wonders just when exactly she began to care about the man who, many moons ago, had torn her in half.

She wonders how true Hashirama’s tales were, or if there are even any redeeming qualities in Madara.

It’s a quiet evening as Tsunade leans against the Hokage seat, turning just some to bask in the dimming light of the setting sun. The tranquillity of the peace filters certain memories through her repressed mind. Memories of a softer time permeate. Softness that she had convinced herself she had forgotten. Softness that once was treated as a mere mystery, something incomprehensible by a child’s mind, and brushed away like a fleeting and unimportant thing as she grew older. Then further repressed by war, loss, and duty.

Only now did it make an inkling of a sense, all because of Uchiha Madara.

She remembers now, how her grandfather’s joyful expressions at her antics always were accompanied by a tint of grief. At the time, she was much too young. She did not know to recognise grief when she saw it. But now, now it shouts at her. It shouts at her that the sorrow swimming in warm chocolate orbs were those of longing, of _‘I wished someone else was here to see this.’_ , of _‘If you were born sooner, perhaps he could have realised this peace.’_ , of _‘He always liked bubbly children, too.’_

 

Of _‘Maybe I shouldn’t have killed him.’_

 

There’s a pang in her heart at that one.

 

It took a solid sixty years and four devastating wars for her to realise that she was not the cause of the sadness in Hashirama’s eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day ahead :)
> 
> [Reblog on Tumblr](http://forlornwind.tumblr.com/post/154681634010/rating-general-audiences-timeline-post-war) | [All FanFiction](http://forlornwind.tumblr.com/listing)


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